


Something Unexpected

by Taste_of_Suburbia



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst Dean Winchester, Angst Gabriel, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective Gabriel, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-27
Updated: 2012-09-27
Packaged: 2017-11-15 04:25:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/523117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taste_of_Suburbia/pseuds/Taste_of_Suburbia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neither of them are alone, and in the midst of realizing this, something unexpected happens. It changes their futures dramatically, all because of one little confession from two different people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Unexpected

**Author's Note:**

> This came to me from nowhere.

“Dean.”

He looks up from his beer bottle, from his relatively low position on the bed, up at the archangel standing at the door. He wonders why he doesn’t come closer. Not that he wants him to come closer. Since about a week ago, Gabriel has been there every day at random times, saying his name like he expects him to say something back, standing at the exact same spot as if hoping the eldest Winchester will beckon him forward. 

Dean doesn’t want to, and he wouldn’t expect Gabriel to understand. He doesn’t trust him, and he finds it weird and somewhat creepy that his voice is so calm and should he say, sweet?

“What do you want?” He says, because that’s what he always says. 

And the impatience and frustration grows every day, just like the lack of trust diminishes somewhat every day. He suspects that Gabriel wants to tell him something important, is almost to the point where he would stake his life on the fact that Gabriel wouldn’t hurt him. But he’s not sure of much these days. He can’t afford to be

“Where’s Sam?”

“Gone. That what you came here to ask me?”

“No," Gabriel shakes his head and continues to stare at him. 

“Sit down or something, you’re freaking me out.”

Gabriel hesitantly walks forward and pulls the chair out from the desk, sitting slowly in it, as if waiting for it to explode. Dean was going to offer him the spot next to him on the bed, but he wasn’t positive he wouldn’t freak out or become terrified at the chance of Gabriel touching him and killing him. 

Dean wants him to unglue his mouth, say what he’s gonna say, before he kills himself over the anticipation and intense curiosity. 

Gabriel just stares at him, as if he’s the most amazing sight. Dean doesn’t know what to do but stare back, it’s impossible to ignore him. 

“What do you want, Gabriel? Why are you even still here?”

“There’s nothing to go back for.”

Even though he’s clearly talking to Dean, still staring straight at him, the Winchester can’t help but feel the archangel’s distance. He feels a million miles away from Gabriel, feels like he’s not supposed to hear this, that this isn’t his place. He feels like an intruder, and it’s growing more and more uncomfortable. But one thing it doesn’t do is get rid of his curiosity. 

He wonders whether he should be worried about him. 

“What are you talking about?”

“Everything," Gabriel’s eyes don’t move, "it’s all gone.”

It’s now perfectly clear to Dean he’s in a daze, lost in his own thoughts and Dean has never seen him like this before. Then again, he hasn’t seen hardly any sides to him. The only reason why he’s not freaking out right now, not making plans to kill him, is because he saved their lives not so long ago. His thanks means letting him hang out with him and Sam when he feels like it. His appreciation is listening to Gabriel when he talks, to somehow make him realize he’s not alone. 

Even if he doesn’t know what he should say. 

“I’m alone. I’ve always been alone but I haven’t felt it until now. I’m alone.”

He says the last word very slowly, as if the word sounds foreign to him, doesn’t roll across his tongue the way it should. Dean can connect, he’s felt this before, being alone, the consequences of it, what it does to your mind. He’s thinking about telling Gabriel to stop being such an idiot, that no one is ever truly alone. Although then he’d be a hypocrite, because being without Sammy is death. It is without Sam that he is truly and irrevocably alone. And that’s when it really messes with your mind, makes the pain turn physical. 

“I know.”

Gabriel looks up at him as if he’s just told him the secret of life. Dean really did wish he knew that. 

“What," he continues, "you think you’re the only one who’s ever felt that? You forget what I’m like when Sam’s gone, the stress, the worry, all the bullshit I’ve had to go through over and over. 

“Dean…”

He’s not planning on stopping now, not until he gives the archangel a piece of his mind. 

“No, you listen to me. You think you can just come around here and make me feel sorry for you? You weren’t there when I needed help, Gabriel, you were off doing whatever the hell it is a trickster does. And now that everyone around you is dead, you feel that’s an excuse to break down, to wallow in self-pity, to expect me to hug you and tell you everything’s gonna be alright? Well, it’s not. Life sucks, might as well get used to it now before you get the revelation later.” 

“I’m sorry.”

He ignores how truly apologetic Gabriel sounds, how sorry he looks. He doesn’t want to deal with it right now. 

“Yeah well, too little too late. Ever heard that one before? Or are you too blind to the emotions of humans?”

Gabriel instantly walks over and sits down next to Dean, and he turns away, not wanting to look at the archangel ever again. He feels an arm wrap around him though, one that doesn’t pull him close but is there nonetheless. 

“Don’t…”

He never lets others comfort him, rarely even Sam. And just because Gabriel is offering, and just because it is beyond tempting, doesn’t mean he’s planning to accept. He wants to lean into his arm but he won’t. He’ll never forgive himself for it. 

“Just say the words if you don’t want me to be here, Dean. And I’ll leave.”

Gabriel’s tone is so gentle and it calms the Winchester down a little, enough so that he can comfortably breathe again. 

He still can’t match his eyes, “It’s not that simple.”

“It is," Gabriel urges, "just tell me.”

It’s not simple because he hates Gabriel right now, but he doesn’t want him to leave. He needs someone here, needs to know someone has his back right at that moment. 

“If you want me to…”

“Just stay," he blurts out, trying not to sound panicked at the thought of him disappearing but knowing he’s failing miserably at it, "I want you to stay, alright?”

He doesn’t want Gabriel to grin, to smile, to laugh, to say anything, and he doesn’t. Dean wonders if he entered his mind to figure all of that out. But it doesn’t matter, the silence paired with Gabriel’s arm around him is comforting, is steady, is real. He hopes, screams in his mind the pleas to not let any of this go away. And maybe Gabriel can hear him, because he stays and he remains silent. 

Dean gets exactly what he needs for once in his pathetic life.

When the bearer of the warm arm pulls him closer he pushes himself closer, letting his head fall into the archangel’s chest, where’s he’s pulled into a gentle but tight hug. He closes his eyes and breathes, leaning further and further into Gabriel because he won’t let himself protest, won’t let himself do anything else but let Gabriel hold him while he fights back tears, the tears he has for nothing in particular but everything all at once. All the pain and doubt he’s ever had to go through. 

“I’ve got you.”

It’s more than just a whisper, it’s a promise. 

He breathes in the smell of caramel and cotton candy, lets it calm him down as the archangel slowly lies down on the bed, dragging Dean down with him, positioning Dean’s head gently on a pillow. The human’s hands clutch his shirt, his hair, anything he can reach because he wants to feel Gabriel here. Wants to touch him and know he’s not going to disappear. 

“I love you.”

He closes his eyes again as Gabriel lifts up his shirt, placing a hand on his back and rubbing small circles into it. He can feel himself drifting before anything else can happen, focusing on his soft hand on his back as the movement continues, the circles never ceasing and never becoming more than he can handle. 

He is at peace. 

“Love you too.”

He doesn’t even remember the words pouring out of his mouth. 

But it’s not like they’re not true.

**FIN**


End file.
